Bossa Nova
by Wand and a Paperclip
Summary: What if Bartlet had decided to wait to meet Ainsley until the day after his State of the Union address? What would have happened to Ainsley and Sam?


**A/N: This is my first West Wing fiction. I love the show and the characters. Well, I like the original ones more than the later ones. Anyway, I was rewatching the episode "Bartlet's Third State of the Union" and got the idea of a Sam/Ainsley fiction. They are my favorite non-realized couple. This is my first pure romance work, so I'd appreciate any help that I could get.**

**If anyone wants me to continue this piece, since this is obviously only the beginning for them, or just write companion pieces, please review or PM me. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own West Wing or any of its characters.**

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**3rd Person POV**

"Oh dance with me, Sam!" She flits around, giggling and swaying.

When he doesn't join her, she turns back around, "Please?" She looks at the person who has become her best friend in this White House with her gorgeous eyes and flutters them for a moment before continuing to dance.

Sam Seaborn finds himself staring at her curves, watching her move in ways that he never thought that he would see. He realizes that he's enjoying it and then blushes. He looks down at the ground feeling flushed.

Ainsley Hayes sees his reaction and secretly enjoys the feeling that it gives her, but she ignores the feeling. She doesn't know why he makes her feel like that. When they debate, it doesn't matter how much she cares about the topic. She goes in strong. He manages to bring out the passionate, intense person in her more than anyone else. Sometimes, though, he's so fervent in what he saying that it makes her feel weak in the knees. He's the only person who can distract her from a debate, and it makes her feel vulnerable. But for some reason, she doesn't seem to mind when it's him.

After putting her drink down, she sashays up to him and grabs his hand, twirling herself under it.

Sam smiles and laughs, joining in slightly. He twirls her some more and then just grins, enjoying just watching her.

She won't let him just watch, however, and she pulls him in again. She grabs both of his hands and makes him dance closely with her. By the end of the song, their bodies are pressed tightly together as Ainsley laughs and smiles.

Sam's never seen her like this, so carefree and so happy. He likes seeing this side of Ainsley. He doesn't know why, but just watching her like this makes him happy. He feels more content than he has in a while. He tries to tell himself that it's because of how well the State of the Union went, but he knows that that's not the real reason.

The song ends and Ainsley smiles, looking innocently up at Sam. He sees the spark in her eyes and he just can't ignore it anymore. He reaches down and pulls her face up to him, pulling her in. Their lips meet and he wraps his arms around her.

She responds in kind, pulling her fingers through his hair and pinning him against a wall.

She knows that this is what she's been waiting for. She knows right then that Sam is more than just her best friend. He's more. Her body feels like it's on fire, and she loves it. She parts her lips as entry for more.

Suddenly, Sam pulls away, "Ainsley we can't do this."

"And why not?" She asks. "We both obviously want this."

"I do, Ainse. I really do. But we can't. You're a Republican and I'm a Democrat. This is going to harm this White House!" He takes a step back as he tries to control his breathing.

"Same, for once, stop thinking of other people!" She yells at him, her fists banging the table. "Do you want this, Sam? Do you? Just think of that. Don't think of politics, or the press. Just us." Her mood has changed in about thirty seconds from elated to passionate and irate. Even when drunk she can debate with the best.

Sam shakes his head, "I have to think of politics. It's my job, and it's yours as well. And not just that, I'm not going to take advantage of you when you're drunk. I don't want you to regret this. You… you've turned into my best friend. Right up there with Josh, and I don't want to do anything to ruin that. Come on Ainse, let's get you home."

"No, Sam! I know what I want! And it's you! Screw politics, we'll figure it out," She makes her point and slams her fist down on the desk again.

At that moment, her assistant walks in, "Ms. Hayes? Is everything all right?" She's carrying a new set of clothes for Ainsley and is trying not to stare at where Sam is standing, looking dumbfounded.

"Yes, everything's all right, Jean. Thanks for the clothes. Have a good night," She tells her assistant.

Her assistant leaves and she continues, "Good night, Sam. I'm going to get changed and then leave."

Sam turns around so she can change into some real clothes but doesn't go, "Ainsley, you're drunk. You are not driving home right now."

"I'm fine, Sam. And right now, even if I wasn't, I don't think that you're in a position to tell me if I am or not. Just leave me alone!" He hears her plop down into a chair and then start to cry.

"I'm not leaving, Ainsley, until you agree to let me take you home," He responds.

When he doesn't hear anything in return from Ainsley, he turns around. She sitting in the chair with a dress shirt and jeans messily put on. She's asleep, snoring lightly and wilting against her chair.

She looks so peaceful sleeping in the chair that Sam doesn't wake her. He picks her and her briefcase up and brings them upstairs to his office. She stills hasn't woken up, so he decides to just take her to his house. He doesn't have her keys on her and he doesn't think that she'd appreciate him going through her desk. She seems too drunk and sleepy to even know herself where they are.

He grabs both his and her briefcase and then gently nudges her, "Ainsley, wake up."

She looks at him sleepily, "What's going on Sam?"

"Shhh, just follow me to my car. I'm going to take you to my house. You can sleep in the bed, I'll take the couch," Sam tells her.

She's too tired and out of it to argue, so she follows Sam with their briefcases and heads to the car. She falls asleep as soon as they get in.

* * *

The next morning, Ainsley wakes up with a killer headache. She doesn't know where she is; she doesn't know what she's doing. All she knows is that she's in a huge, soft bed and she doesn't remember anything past Sam kissing her.

Wait, Sam kissed her? What the hell…

She smells eggs being made and some bacon sizzling on the stove. Noticing that she's in some jeans and a dress shirt, she just brushes her teeth and hair before heading into the kitchen.

She sees Sam, already dressed for work and sipping a cup of coffee. He notices her and smiles softly before handing her some coffee and two aspirin.

"I think you're going to need it."

She nods gratefully and then looks at him, "What time is it?"

"Ten minutes to 7," He replies. "We have to be into work by 8:30 today. I figured that we could eat breakfast and then I'd drive you to work. I already had Jean pick up some clothes for you. She'll bring them to you as soon as we get in."

She nods, "Thanks." She takes a slow sip of her coffee before turning back to him, "Sam, what happened last night?"

He sighs, knowing that the question would come but he wasn't sure that we wanted to answer it. He does anyway, "You got a little drunk after getting your pants covered in wet paint. I was going down to your office to talk with you and when I got there, you were dancing in a bathrobe. You wanted me to join you, so I danced with you a little."

Sam tries to finish up the story quickly, "Then we kissed, Jean brought in some clothes, you fell asleep and then I couldn't find your key. I took you here, put you to bed and slept on the couch."

Ainsley nods, knowing that he's telling the truth, but not all of it.

"So we kissed?" She asks.

Sam nods, "I'm sorry, we both weren't thinking straight and-."

"No, even with those Pink Squirrels I can still remember that we both wanted it. But why'd we stop?" I'm not sure if I even really want to know the answer, but I ask anyway.

"Because it was inappropriate. We can't date. And I wasn't going to take advantage of you."

"Sam, screw politics!" She bursts out.

"That's what you said last night," he mutters. "Ainsley, we can't just screw politics! We really can't! We work for the leader of the free world. I wish we could, but we can't."

"You know what, those are just excuses! Be selfish! God, Sam, when I came into this White House, everyone hated me. The only one who didn't was Leo. And when he told me what you did to Brookline and Joyce, I didn't believe him! But then you went and got Josh, CJ, and hell, even Toby, to sing for me!

"I tried to not like you Sam, and then I tried to just be your friend. But it's not working. Sam, I know that you want this. Don't let politics stop you. And I'm not drunk right now, so there went that excuse! I know that right now I'm being self-centered and acting like I don't care about what this could mean, but I do. I just care about you more," Ainsley finishes and then just stares at her coffee as if all of the fight was just drained from her.

Sam stares at her. He crosses to where she's sitting and puts his arms around her. He lifts her face up and kisses her softly. She smiles lightly as he looks her in the eyes, "You're right, Ainse. You're right. I really need to stop getting into disagreements with you. I really do care about you. A lot. How about… how about we just keep this on the down low for right now? Don't tell anyone about it?"

Ainsley nods, "I like the sound of that. We can just keep doing what we normally do, you know, have lunch and dinner some times, except this time, it's a date."

Sam smiles and they kiss.

Ainsley doesn't even notice as the bacon begins to burn.

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**A/N: I hope that you enjoyed, because I certainly had fun writing it!**


End file.
